


My Blood For Theirs

by Benjamin_Winter



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Blood and Violence, Disturbing Themes, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Loss of Virginity, Manipulation, Pain, Smut, reluctance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 17:10:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7900939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benjamin_Winter/pseuds/Benjamin_Winter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merrill sacrifices a piece of herself for her people.</p><p>A commissioned story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Blood For Theirs

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone who gives kudos has my heartfelt thanks. I do read all comments, so feel free to leave one.

  
  
          The sun loomed and bloomed high and bright over the Kirkwall Alienage, burning like a fireball in the sky over the crowded slums. The heat had beads of moisture shining on Percy’s bronzed flesh, and sweat dripped from his long, pointed ears. It was an uncomfortable heat, but Percy couldn’t well just up and leave. Definitely not. The people were gracious today. Already Percy had thirty coppers and two silvers. _Two silvers._ His metal pan was burning hot to his touch now, heated by the sun, but it was a pain worth sacrificing for. Percy and his brother would be eating well tonight. No, make that the whole _week._ It was a good omen. A sign of good things to come. This month was trending upwards, that was for certain.  
  
          A hooded man stood over Percy then, casting him in a cool shadow that very nearly had Percy thanking the man. “Spare any coin?” Percy asked him, holding out his pan as the coppers and silvers in them rattled noisily.  
  
          The man produced a dagger in one quick flourish and lunged to Percy, sinking the blade into Percy’s throat, piercing the flesh through and through. Percy’s eyes snapped wide as the man slashed his dagger outwards, tearing the soft flesh of his throat like fabric. The color drained from Percy’s cheeks, flowing with his blood.  
  
          “ _Rodent,_ ” The attacker snarled as he swiped the two silvers from Percy’s pan and darted away amidst the panicked screams and shouts of onlookers and passersby.  
  
          Percy clutched his gashed throat, gasping for breath as a bubbling crimson flowed down his neck. He coughed and hacked as his lungs filled with fluid, choking on his own thick blood.  
  
          Merrill darted over to the commotion as fast as her legs would take her, but she arrived far too late. She watched in grief and terror as Percy slumped to his side, his eyes listless and dead.  
  
          …  
  
          There was an uncertainty in the green of Merrill’s eyes. A sense of unease over what was to come. It would likely be a fruitless endeavor. She’d likely be shouted away, but she had to try.  
  
          Merrill flicked her short locks of dark hair behind her pointed ears and gave a few pats to the furred shoulder pads of her green robes, brushing away the few flecks of dirt that had settled on them. When that had been done and she had made herself presentable, she put her hands to her brow, to the Dalish tattoos of her face, long and spiraling, like the roots of an ages-old tree, and she let out a deep, soothing sigh to the bottom of her lungs. _Be calm,_ she thought. _Be confident._  
  
          Merrill made her way briskly through the south hall of the guardhouse. She earned more than a few looks from watching guardsmen as she walked, looks that were either curious or hateful. When she had found the door she desired, she pushed through it hurriedly. __  
  
          It was the office of the Captain of the Kirkwall City Guard. The Captain, Jeven, sat at his desk facing Merrill and the door. He scribbled a quill pen hastily onto a scroll, and various parchments laid strewn about on his desk. Jeven was an aged man, and his sunkissed flesh had begun to wrinkle. The hair of his head was wispy and white, and the hair of his face was more a scraggly, unkempt stubble than a beard. He was a homely man. His nose was strong and long, and tired shadows rested beneath his beady, distrustful eyes. He did not wear his guardsmen armor, but instead a simple tunic and trousers.  
  
          The bitter scent of ale was thick in the air. A tall mug sat on Jeven’s desk. He quaffed heavy gulps from it whenever he took a break from writing to dip his pen into the inkwell. Jeven spared Merrill a quick, careless glance before looking back to his parchment. “Need something?” He grumbled.  
  
          Merrill was quiet for a short moment, mustering her courage. Her hands were at her waist, wringing together nervously. “We need more guardsmen in the Alienage,” She said softly, just on the edge of hearing.  
  
          “This about that lad Perren?” Jeven asked as he noisily scribbled away. He didn’t give Merrill the dignity of another glance her way.  
  
          “Percy,” Merrill said. “His name was Percy.”  
  
          “Whatever.”  
  
          Merrill knitted her brow, stuck by disbelief. “You don’t care?”  
  
          “Beggars die nightly in every city in Thedas,” Jeven said dully. “Kirkwall is no different.”  
  
          “His life’s story does not begin and end at _‘beggar,’_ ” Merrill told him as she dared to raise her voice. “He had a family. Parents. A brother. A nephew. He was a person—a _feeling_ person. And there wasn’t a single guard in sight when he died.”  
  
          Jeven’s hand fell still, and he finally looked again to Merrill, glaring daggers at her. “We don’t have the manpower or the steel to watch every street of the city,” He growled tersely. “Much less the streets of _undesirables_ ,” He muttered. His voice had harshened at the last word.  
  
          _‘Undesirables.’_ Elves. Jeven hated them. That was no mystery. Half the Guard likely did.  
  
          “I’ll do anything,” Merrill begged him. “ _Please._ ”  
  
          Jeven’s gaze wandered Merrill’s snug-fitting robes, eyeing her slim form, the gentle heft of her pert breasts and the faint curves of her girlish hips. “Fine then,” He said to her. “But there’s only one thing you have that I want,” His eyes lingered on the crotch of her robes. “Your flower.”  
  
          Merrill’s heart fluttered and her eyes widened. Jeven’s request had taken her completely off-guard. The lecherousness of so many humans was still a foreign concept to her. Thoughts flew through her mind in a daze then, thoughts of the pain and shame she’d endure should she agree. She was a virgin. She’d be giving a piece of herself away, a piece she’d never get back.  
  
          But Merrill was no stranger to sacrifice.  
  
          “Okay,” She said, nodding weakly.  
  
          A wide grin crooked around Jeven’s lips. He took the mug of ale to his lips and quickly gulped down the last of it. The wood panels of the floor screeched when he slid his chair back and shot up to his feet. He was on her in seconds, standing behind her, towering over her. His stench of ale was strong in Merrill’s nose, and she very nearly coughed at the intensity of it.  
  
          Jeven snaked his arms down the collar of her robes, under her brassiere, and put his rough, leathery hands to her soft breasts. He squeezed her perky tits in his hands and rolled her nipples between his fingers, making them flush with blood, hard and hot. Her breasts were pert and perky but not bountiful. They were certainly not of great size. Jeven let out a short grunt at the feel of them. “Tits like a boy,” He grumbled venomously. “You ought to be thanking me,” He mocked her. “A boyish little lass like you? You _need_ a man to make you a woman.”  
  
          Merrill said nothing. She closed her eyes and tried to find peace, but Jeven gave her teats a sudden, sharp pinch and pulled her breasts outwards. She yelped at the pain of it, and her eyes snapped back open.  
  
          “Put your arms up,” Jeven commanded her, and Merrill obeyed. With her arms high, Jeven tugged her robes up and over her and tossed them aside. She wore nothing but her white panties and brassiere then. She was grateful she had happened not to wear her mail armor on this night. It would’ve taken much longer to disrobe from, and that would’ve been a much longer moment to swell with shame and disgust as she did.  
  
          Merrill’s flesh was hairless from neck to toe, like that of a newborn babe, and Jeven grinned as he put his hands to her. He ran his hands slow down her pale, milky flesh, enjoying the motion they took as they traveled the feminine curves of her hips, down to her tight arse. He cupped her butt through her panties in the palms of his hands, and he sank his fingers hard into her taut flesh. He reared back a hand and brought it down hard on the right cheek of her arse, swatting her bum with a sharp _crack!_  
  
          “Not so hard,” Merrill whimpered at the sudden, bursting pain, but Jeven didn’t care to listen.  
  
          “ _Yes_ hard,” He hissed back, and gave her arse another sharp spank, and then another and another. There wasn’t much abundance to the flesh of her cute, little bum, but Jeven was striking hard enough to make it jiggle under his hand all the same.  
  
          Jeven yanked Merril’s panties down without a word, dropping them to her ankles. Somehow her bare arse managed to be whiter and paler than the rest of her. Or, more accurately, _half_ of her arse was white and pale. Her right cheek burned red from her spanking, marked with the imprint of Jeven’s open hand.  
  
          Jeven slipped a finger to the lips of Merrill’s hairless slit, prodding it into her pink folds. “You want less elven blood spilled,” He mused wickedly. “Then we’re going to spill yours instead,” He slipped the finger a bit further between her lips, to the entrance to her tunnel, teasing the filmy flesh of her maidenhead. Merrill didn’t need to see his face to know his grin had widened. “Your blood for theirs,” He said.  
  
          Merrill gulped.  
  
          Jeven put his hands to the straps of Merrill’s brassiere and unfastened it. When it came loose and fell to the floor, Merrill covered her bare breasts with her arms by instinct, but Jeven grabbed her arms from behind and wrenched them away. “No no no,” He said, giving her a few tsks. “No hiding them.”  
  
          Jeven gave Merrill’s perky breasts a few smarting slaps, making them jiggle and bounce and sway. When he’d had his fill of fun with her breasts, he spun her ‘round and put his hands to her shoulders, pushing her down onto her knees. Jeven’s hands moved quick as they unfastened his belt and dropped his trousers. His long, erect cock sprang and flopped free and struck Merrill on her chin, and she flinched at the touch.  
  
          “Grab it,” Jeven commanded her, smirking.  
  
          Merrill put a hesitant hand to his shaft and pumped him slowly. He was as hard as iron, and his member bobbed and pulsed with the steady beat of his heart. A bead of pre-seed leaked from his crown and was wiped down his length by Merrill’s stroking, moistening his prick enough to make her hand audibly _shlick_ over his shaft _._ Jeven gave her an approving groan. His cock swelled fuller, aching and throbbing. Though Merrill had greatly hoped Jeven would not say his next words, they came soon after.  
  
          “Put your lips to it,” He said.  
  
          Merrill’s heart sank in her chest. Hesitantly, she opened her maw and brought her parted mouth slowly to his crown, until her smooth lips brushed over his thick, swollen head. She brought herself further down his length, enveloping his cockhead in the wet heat of her mouth, sheathed between her lips. She began to tug his cock hastily at his root, keeping her lips still and her tongue held back from his crown as she jerked him. She greatly wished she could finish him then and there, that she could quickly end the shame that was flushing her cheeks hot and red. But Jeven wasn’t satisfied.  
  
          He slapped away her tugging hand. “No hands,” He growled at her. “I can bloody well do that myself. Use your mouth. And your tongue. Unless you don’t care enough,” He teased her, toying with her, manipulating her sense of responsibility. “You _do_ care, don’t you?”  
  
          Merrill lowered her hand. She let her tongue ease down and brush against his cock, and she grimaced when they first touched. She brought her mouth a bit further down Jeven’s member, inch by inch, brushing his hard manhood over her tongue, until the better part of his length rested between her lips. His cock twitched from the bliss of the warmth and wetness of her mouth, and another two drops of pre-seed fell to Merrill’s tongue. It was salty and horrid, and Merrill nearly wretched at the taste of it. It slid down her throat before she could try to expel it, and she grimaced again as she was forced to swallow it.  
  
          Again Merrill fell still, letting his cock rest on her tongue, and again Jeven grew displeased. “ _Move,_ ” He ordered her.  
  
          Merrill made a quiet, whimpering sigh.  
  
          She bobbed her head up and down his cock, keeping her puckered lips sealed tight around him, and she could hear his pleasure as he gave her quick grunts of approval. Jeven brought his hips forward with each of her mouth’s strokes, thrusting into her suckling lips. His taste grew stronger and stronger on her tongue, but Merrill jammed her eyes shut and weathered it. Merrill flicked her tongue once around his crown, almost by accident, and Jeven grunted louder at the pleasure. It was then Merrill realized that the sooner he finished, then so too was she.  
  
          Begrudgingly, Merrill made his pleasure her priority, and she renewed her efforts. She battered his cock with her tongue in long, firm licks, lapping at each side of his member, paying special attention to his thick cockhead. She puckered her lips tight to his member and brought them faster and faster down his length. Jeven’s animalistic grunts and moans grew louder, and his cock swelled and grew harder. His cock pulsed stronger with the beat of his heart, nearly bouncing off Merrill’s tongue.  
  
          Jeven put his hands to the back of Merrill’s head without warning and pushed her hard into his crotch in every following thrust, prompting Merrill to wince and gag and sputter every time his cock pressed at the back of her throat. Strands of her spit drooled messily from her lips. She slurped and gagged on him noisily as Jeven used her head as a handhold and fucked her mouth like a cunt, pushing every inch of his manhood through her suckling lips, thrusting against her wet tongue. She let her arms lay limp at her sides, lifeless and listless. The scent of the forest of gray, scraggly hairs at the base of his cock was strong in Merrill’s nostrils, musky and masculine and foul. Tears fell down Merrill’s cheeks, though she wasn’t sure if they were from misery or from gagging. Likely both.  
  
          Just when Merrill had hoped the end was near, Jeven slipped his cock from her lips, clutching the base of his shaft tight as he fought off his finish. “Close one,” He said, laughing. “Got a bit too eager. Almost missed out on the best part.”  
  
          Jeven grabbed Merrill by the hairless underside of her shoulders and lifted her with ease, and he laid her down onto her back across his desk. He swiped away his mug and parchments, clearing his desk carelessly, and the papers fluttered noisily as they fell to the floor. He grabbed Merrill by her waist and pulled her towards him, so that her arse rested on the edge of his desk and her slender legs hanged from it. A convenient angle to claim her. Jeven pulled his tunic over his head and threw it aside, and he put his hands to her thighs and pushed her legs open hurriedly. He wetted his hand briefly on his tongue and wiped the moist fingers between Merrill’s plump, hairless labia, giving the tight, pink slit of her sex the bare minimum of wetness for what would follow.  
  
          It happened quickly. Merrill wished she could say it happened too quick to notice, but, no, she noticed. There was a sharp pinch when he forced his thick cock into her tight cunt, and a burning pain followed soon after, strong enough to drive more water to her eyes. Jeven was not gentle. He pushed the whole of his cock into her hilt in the first thrust, and the pain in Merrill’s loins worsened with every coming inch. Jeven stood there motionless after he’d forced everything he had into her, and he sighed a pleasured breath as her virginal walls snuggled his length. She was tight like a vise. Her tunnel clenched rhythmically against him, squeezing him to the hastened beat of her heart. Jeven’s prick twitched and throbbed gleefully in her snugness, and the pleasure brought yet more dollops of pre-seed leaking from his cock, which fell and were lost in the frothy liquid of her tunnel. Merrill winced again, harder than before, turning her head away as her face twisted with pain.  
  
          A single bead of blood dripped from Merrill’s slit. The last breath of her maidenhead, and the product of her deflowering. The piece of herself she’d never have returned, and the sum of her sacrifice. Merrill felt it as it trickled down the crack of her arse. __  
  
          Jeven put her hands to Merrill’s breasts and sunk his fingers rough and hard into her supple flesh. He pulled his prick leisurely from her, inch by inch, relishing the sensation of her walls gripping his retreating length. When only his cockhead still rested in her taut slit, he threw his hips forward again, forcing his cock through her walls. He thrusted till his crown pressed against the entrance to her womb, a place Merrill silently pleaded would remain untouched by the hungry beast grunting between her open legs, plundering her most private of places.  
  
          Jeven plunged hard and fast into her, rocking Merrill’s smaller body with every quick, long thrust. He took her angrily and lustfully as he captured with his cock every last bit of flesh in her freshly-deflowered cunt, savoring her heat and wetness. The burning pain in Merrill’s loins did not ease, but dull, nearly unnoticeable pangs of pleasure now echoed through her, alongside her pain. Jeven grunted noisier than ever as he ravaged her, pushing and pulling through her tight slit in a blur of motion as he crashed his hips into her crotch. The walls of Merrill’s cunt kept a snug grip on Jeven’s manhood throughout. The inner pleats of her slit dragged outwards with his pulling cock, only to be violently thrust back into her. The friction and discomfort lessened as the length of Jeven’s cock shone wet with the flowing moisture of her cunt, but even as the burning pain finally began to dull and the muted pleasure began to take its place, Merrill wanted nothing more than for this to end. She swelled with the worst shame she’d ever felt in her life. Tears flowed again from her, and they were not tears of pain.  
  
          Jeven shifted his hands from Merrill’s breasts to her shoulders. His groans quickened and his breath grew shallow and ragged. Merrill had hoped it would soon end, but it did not, not just yet. Jeven only thrusted harder, and he nearly growled now as bliss began to form from the pleasure her wringing cunt gave him. The wooden desk shook and creaked loudly beneath them, louder even than Jeven’s animalistic groans.  
  
          Only after Merril’s once-pink slit had grown red did Jeven’s manhood finally swell harder again. He plucked his cock from Merrill’s brutalized flower with an audible _pop_ and scurried over beside her head. He breathed a guttural groan as he let loose his load on her face, spewing thick ropes of his white seed onto her, layering her lips, her pointed ears, and her Dalish tattoos. He gasped long, huffing breaths as he tugged his cock violently, spurting every last drop onto her, soiling her with the entirety of his spunk. It smelled strongly of his musky stench, and a single rope of his seed fell between her open, panting lips before she could close them. It was salty to the point of bitterness, and Merrill shot forward as she noisily sputtered and spat, fighting to remove the vile taste from her tongue. Jeven laughed at her.  
  
          Her face was white with his thick seed. His spunk dripped from the lobes of her pointed ears. Jeven laughed again at the soiled sight of her, belching tipsily as he did. He collapsed tiredly into his chair, giving his cock a few more tugs to wring out the last of his pleasure.  
  
          “Two guards,” He said breathlessly when he’d finished his diddling, when his cock laid soft and limp between his legs. “From midday to dusk,” He told her. “No more.”  
  
          Merrill did not argue. That was the best she would receive.  
  
          Merrill stood slowly to her feet, and Jeven reached over his desk to give her bare arse one final, sharp swat. A crude man’s mark of approval. It had stung worse than the other spanks, but Merrill took this one in silence. She was a good lay for him. Pleasure beyond words. Even he could not deny that. Merrill had done her duty. But whether she’d sleep easy with that knowledge she wasn’t yet sure.  
  
          Merrill wiped his seed from her face with naught but her hands. Even when the seed had been brushed away, she still stunk of a musky scent. The scent of a man. She was marked by it. A dozen baths wouldn’t wash it away.  
  
          When she had cleaned herself well enough, Merrill clutched her arms around herself as she walked shamefully to her clothes. She pulled them over herself in silence, and she flinched when her panties brushed against the slit of her smarting cunt. It ached as though the man was still inside her. It would for hours, she imagined. When she had completely garbed herself, she turned and saw Jeven gathering his parchments from the floor, putting them together into one neat stack. He was still in the nude. Merrill turned quickly from him, revolted by the sight of him, and she hurried out the door. She was out of earshot before it fell shut.  
  
          When she burst from the guardhouse, her comrade Aveline was there, towering over her. They met eyes, and Merrill knew the woman could see what was behind her gaze. Merrill knew she could see her shame. Aveline’s stoic expression faltered, and she opened her mouth to speak, but Merrill hurried away before she could utter her first word.  
  
          The pained throbbing in Merrill’s loins worsened as she hurried through the crowd of passersby towards her home. Sickness and shame twisted her stomach into a painful knot, to the point that it felt as though it was going to burst. Merrill nearly fainted.  
  
          When at last she had arrived home, Merrill hurried to her bed and slipped under her sheets. She curled into a ball and hugged her knees close to her chest, but she did not weep.  
  
  
  



End file.
